Sound of Hysteria
by ben 'n' jerry
Summary: The story of the other Lovegood, Astrid. Surprisingly gifted, dark, quiet, a misfit. AU, started before HBP was released. Please read and review!
1. Must Get Out

**AN:** under construction, but please read and review! I am in the process of rewriting this story, so some parts may be a bit disjointed. Also, my computer is taking spaces out of the story for no reason so sometimes itcomesoutlikethis, which is not intentional.

Chapter One - Must Get Out

Title: Sound of Hysteria

By: ben 'n' jerry

Disclaimer: I do not own, nor am I affiliated with Harry Potter. I do, however, own the plot and the characters you do not recognize.  
Must Get Out belongs to Maroon 5

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_I'm lifting you up, I'm letting you down  
I'm dancing til dawn, I'm fooling around.  
I'm not giving up, I'm making your love.  
This city's made us crazy, and we must get out._

When we were kids Luna was always the one my father pulled onto his knee to tell his friends about her pet Crumple-Horned Snorcack; something that I used to scoff at. I didn't enjoy the workings of my imagination as I always felt that Luna would surpass me in that area, and I suspect that my very conscious decision to alienate aspects of this kind from my childhood had a lot to do with why I grew up so quickly.

My father didn't have time for my rationality, he would never give me satisfactory answersto my questions. My twin was always the centre of attention, even if she didn't know it. I bet she's still oblivious to how much it hurt me when people referred to her as the interesting one, the sweet one, the eccentric little blonde one.

I actually triedbleaching my hair blonde several times to no avail when I was about eight, and my interest in Metamorphmagi dates back to those days as well. I wanted more than anything to be like Luna, who was older thanI amby only six minutes.

We were both sorted into Ravenclaw in our first year, but we didn't share a dorm room, since an abnormal surplus of first years seemed to have been sorted into our house. At first people fawned over Luna and her delightful little habits and her individuality, but eventually they started teasing her a bit- I have to say I think it affected me more than it did her. I got into a couple of fights in first year- none too serious, but as my Muggle elementary school counsellor told my father, my antagonistic tendencies festered to a point where all my bottled up anger was unleashed upon the unfortunate soul who provoked me. That would be a direct quote, as a matter of fact.

The subtitled version reads that what could start as a small fight could turn into the beating of someone's lifetime, and what could start as a small challenge could grow into a full-fledged wizard's duel.

I never really thought of myself as belonging in my house, despite the fact that I had been branded with the Ravenclaw stereotype long before I even knew such a thing existed. My mother always used to joke that I was wise beyond my years, like a little grownup. She was the one who encouraged my reading even at a very young age, the only one I ever allowed to read my poems and stories. After she died, I stopped writing altogether, and even though my father didn't know how much it mattered to me, he had the common sense to try and get me to write again, as that was all he ever saw me doing anyway.

Truth was, once I had been sorted into the house with characteristics corresponding to my own personality, I never felt like I deserved the praise or results I got for my work. It seemed a fluke that I had been sorted into the house with alumni known for their literature, achievement, and arts, when what I was trying to do was to isolate me from these things that reminded me of my mother.

Ginny Weasley and I sometimes ended up as Charms partners and we got along pretty well. She seemed very alone and afraid, and I think that after her run-in with the Chamber of Secrets in our first year, I was one of the only people she really seemed to trust. We spent a lot more time together.We spent hours talking about the things she had gone through, about the diary, about Harry and about her family.

By the end of our third year she was almost a different person, someone with newfound confidence, new hope and a tight circle of friends including Colin Creevey, Damini Patil and myself.

She never knew that the happy, strong, independent person I was around all of them was just a cover up. None of them knew that I was always pretending.

They became immensely frustrated with me; they couldn't understand how I could turn from the understanding and patient confidante they knew to a such a violent, angry person within minutes. They told me that the hours I spent in detention could permanently affect my record, but it never mattered to me.

As Ginny healed, and Damini started to beautify and Colin's obsession with Harry Potter lessened, I started to retract more and more into myself. I still hadn't written anything besides school requirements since before I'd been moved to Gryffindor. I started feeling more and more alone, even though I was never actually by myself.

Finally, during the summer of my third year, Luna and I received a letter from my grandparents on my mother's side, who lived in France, offering us the opportunity to attend one of the top wizarding schools in Europe, Cypress Academy, for a summer term.

My grandfather was the headmaster, and I'd never really understoodwhymy father insisted on sending us to Hogwarts in our first year. Luna had already committed herself to a summer job with the Quibbler, leaving me to go by myself. I wasn't very unhappy about this arrangement, since I had a feeling that Luna and I spending alone time would not be a very good idea.

I spent most of my remaining time in the UK in London, where Damini lived. The Patil house was always filled with people, Lavender Brown was a regular, as was Ginny Weasley, and hords of other Gryffindor and Ravenclaw girls. It was a very strained, tense time, even under the facade of the bubbly, airheaded teenage girl environment. Harry Potter's return with the corpse of the Hufflepuff heartthrob Cedric Diggory sent most girls into a frenzy even if they were only shallow enough to recognize the loss of a pretty face, and not what significance this held to the wizarding world. Of course I believed Harry's story, but I didn't defend or support either side around these girls, as it would really make no difference.

Everyone was talking, and here is where my suspicions that most rumours around the school were bred in the Patil household was confirmed.

I had never heard as many varying versions of a story in my life, and although it aggravated me, I decided to keep my peace.

Truthfully I wasa bitrelieved to say my goodbyes around the beginning of August. Damini cried, and Ginny held on to me like she would never let go. Even Colin,who was only there for a couple of days, momentarily overcame his paranoia of touching a girl to give me a hug. It was nice. I felt really bad that I couldn't show more emotion at the time. I was staring directly at the sun to make my eyes water, but I think all I really did was cause retinal damage and possibly increased my risk of developing cataracts before I hit forty.

So here I am. A summer abroad turned into a summer and fall abroad. Which, in turn, became a fall and a winter abroad. Which, of course, meant we had to see spring through in its own right. It's been a year since I've been home, I haven't seen my father, Luna, or any of my friends since that summer of my third year.

The house is empty. I'm sitting on my bed, the familiar blue and white checked pattern beneath my fingers, smelling faintly of laundry detergent,and there's nobody here.

I don't understand. I was sure I'd sent an owl before I left my grandparents' house, telling them what time I'd be arriving, and they aren't here. It's the middle of the night, so even if they hadn't received my letter, I would expect them to be home.

I haven't even unpacked yet, so I just grabbed my bag and headed down the stairs. I wrote a quick note and left it on the kitchen table before grabbing a handful of Floo powder. I had to go somewhere where there werepeople. Somewhere where one extra person would make hardly any difference.

I sighed and stepped into our big fireplace.

"_The Burrow!_"

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**AN: **I've taken my reviews to heart and changed a few things, so there might be a little inconsistency, but I'll fix it soon enough. Please review! 


	2. Smile Like You Mean It

Chapter Two: Smile Like You Mean It

By: ben 'n' jerry

Disclaimer: I do not own, nor am I affiliated with Harry Potter. I also don't own any of the music or artists I mention in any of these stories. I will make a point of pointing out any orginal lyrics or poetry. I do own that which you do not recognize.  
Smile Like You Mean It belongs to The Killers

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_Save some face, you know you've only got one.  
Change your ways while you're young.  
Boy, one day you'll be a man.  
Oh, girl, he'll help you understand... _

I awoke in the early hours of the morning, and just lay on the ground watching the rain fall. It was supposed to be July, but I didn't really care. There's nothing that annoys me more than when the sun comes out in the middle of the day after a gloomy, grey morning. It seems rude, almost.

I had actually only arrived the night before, so I didn't even know who was really home this summer. Mrs Weasley seemed a bit fragile for some reason, vulnerable, almost, when I mentioned the unusual silence, so I stopped questioning her. After spending so much time with an emotionally wrought Ginny, I knew that the Weasley women were not to be pushed. It worked out pretty well: I didn't press for details on the quiet house, and she returned the favour when I showed up unannounced in the middle of the night after not having been there for more than a year.

Hermione was asleep on the queen-sized bed next to Ginny, which was why I had slept on the floor with a complete jumble of blankets- mismatched colours and fabrics didn't really matter in this house.

If Hermione was here, Harry and Ron were probably here too, which was a welcome change from the previous summer. Perhaps the keeping-Harry-safe issue had finally been resolved, but I doubted it. I was beginning to awaken to how hard the floor really was, and becoming more and more uncomfortable by the second, so I wriggled out of my warm cocoon and stumbled to my feet. I grabbed my towel and got to the bathroom before anyone could possibly have used the warm water.

The hot water stung against my bare skin, and I tilted my head back, letting it take me over. I love showers. I actually read somewhere that they were used to treat schizophrenics, who are calmed by the alternating hot and cold spray. It doesn't really calm me, but it makes me kind of lightheaded, which I suspect slows my heart rate hence a lack of oxygen, and I think that that might be the purpose of the whole exercise. Not lacking oxygen, I mean, but a difference in heart rate and adrenaline.

I got out of the shower, changed into my low-rise black jeans and pulled a black and white striped golf shirt over my head. I quickly did my makeup, which includes black mascara, chocolate brown eyeliner,silver eyeshadow and clear pink lipgloss, then grabbed my pyjamas and headed back to Ginny's room.

Neither Hermione nor Ginny was awake yet, so I just dug out my iPod from my bag and leaped like a cat on padded feet down the stairs. I rolled my eyes at the sunlight that was now streaming through the window, but settled onto the windowsill anyway. Maybe it was a sign that I would start this year on the right foot. I stared out of the window, relaxing to the sweet sound ofElliott Smithcrooning in my head.

I think I may have drifted off for a while, because the next thing I knew I was rudely awakened for the second time this morning.

"_Astrid_!" I heard Ginny's unmistakeable squeal from the general direction of the staircase. I lazlily stretched myself out, like a lion yawning in the African sun. I squinted from my spot by the window, my limbs were like lead.

"Hey, Gin!" she came running and picked me up in a hug. I'm smaller than most people, only just five feet. "I didn't want to wake you up when I got here, you looked all snugly and fuzzy all tucked in like that."

Harry, Ron and Hermione were just behind her, Ron practically grunting in his typically adolescent anxiousness to get to the kitchen- his breakfast awaited.

"Morning," I said cheerily. OK, maybe it was mock-cheerily. So sue me.

"Are you one of the return exchange students?" Hermione asked, remaining on the stairs, "From Cypress?" She seemed so official and professional; I wondered if she would end up as Head Girl next year.

Harry made quite the undignified snorting noise, more reminiscent of something Ron would do, really. "Hermione, that's Lovegood. How can you not recognize her? She took half of our classes in fourth year!"

"Oh! I'm so sorry, Astrid. Welcome back," she said, smiling almost automatically, despite obviously not meaning it.

I grinned despite myself. The year before I went on exchange I had beaten Hermione in every fourth year course I had taken. She didn't like me, and I knew it. I didn't really care either.

I'm smart. Deal with it.

When Mrs Weasley came in from the garden, several owls followed behind her. As she busied herself with blueberry waffles I opened my Hogwarts letter, where I found a bronze badge with a 'P' embossed on it in my envelope. Prefect. The letter which informed me I had to be resorted again, a condition I had forgotten I had agreed to. I was actually happy.

The growing distance between Ginny and I was moving from my mind to reality now, and as we talked and laughed, I started to realize that the façade I had kept up wasn't as strong as it used to be. I had been away so long that the comfort with which I cheered them up and made them laugh was starting to fail me. Being isolated would be better for me than to risk my mask slipping.

I heard Ginny begging Mrs Weasley in the background to take us to Diagon Alley earlier than she had meant to, begging with a resilience that would not have presented itself in the hollow, introverted little Weasley girl I had met in first year. I felt strangely proud of the strong-willed nagging she kept up, feeling as if I had somehow strengthened her character in the timethat I had known her, a time that now seemed truly short in relation to everything else that had happened.

"What do you think, Astrid?" my head snapped up and I saw the attention of the length of the table was focused on me. I was, after all, the newest guest, and I knew I bore a strange authority with my out-of-place foreign edgeand mysterious night-time arrival.

"Sure," I grinned, playing along to what I knew Ginny wanted me to say, "I actually need an all-new set of books this year anyway, my Advanced Transfiguration text from Cypress is practicall falling apart."

"Advanced Transfiguration?" Ginny asked, gesticulating a bit with her fork. I watched as it glinted in the sunlight that I had found so unwelcome earlier today.

I nodded, and tore open the walls of one of the small squares in my waffle, then watched the syrup seep into an empty cell next to it.

"I didn't know Hogwarts even had a course like that," Ginny stated, absently flailing her fork in her right hand.

"They don't," I had actually broken records and completely rewritten the book on rearranging an impossible timetable when I was at Cypress. Of course nothing that compared to Hermione's Time-Turner experience in my second year, but my grandfather had made some allowances forhis gifted granddaughter.

"But I took mostly AP courses in France, they provided their own textbooks and curriculums, so we could have literally everything we could ever need to achieve. I've been using mostly second hand stuff my grandparents just had around the house.The point being that I can't use my Transfiguration textbook anymore even if it does have everything I would need this year. I'll probably just get a regular seventh year text, you know the series they started us with? By Miranda Goshawk?"

Even Hermione seemed slightly dumbstruck. I felt a smug wave of superiority wash over me, and I decided to continue.

"My professor told me that Goshawk's series is far more rudimentary than they generally prefer, but it gives you a very sturdy basis for a continuation of your studies."

"What did they recommend?" Hermione had finally found her tongue.

"Oh, mostly supplementary reading, I guess. I'm not really sure what's available right now, but if we do end up going to Diagon Alley I could pick out what I needed instead of having to get my books at Hogsmeade."

Ginny gave me the thumbs-up sign behind her mother's back, one I didn't return. She probably thought it was just to keep her mother fromknowing, but the truth is that I didn't feel like playing her game.

The conversation turned away from me again; I seemed to have shocked everyone enough for one day, so my thoughts turned to other things. I ran my thumb over the glinting badge, a shadow of a true smile creeping across my face. For the first time in a long time I was actually looking forward to seeing Hogwarts again.

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**AN:** Please review! This is the second version of this story, and I like it way better... what do you guys think? And I know I posted this with Draco as a main character, I swear he'll be coming in soon. Pleeaassee review, this is my first fanfic I've ever posted :) I am planning on writing responses to any reviews I get in the next chapter! 


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